Wait For It
by TheOceanBreathesSalty
Summary: Oneshot Jalex, Alex's POV. I do not own them. Please leave a review!


"What am I doing," you murmur underneath your breath, pacing back and forth almost silently in front of Justin's room. "What am I doing, what am I doing, what am I doing?"

You had been there for three hours already, having gone to talk to Justin at midnight and then proceeding to pace in front of his door until three in the morning.

You weren't sure what you were doing here.

You had been feeling all these strange things lately. Emotions that you weren't used to, that you hadn't really ever felt before.

Jealousy when you saw Juliet with Justin.

Anger when Harper went off on one of her rants about how dreamy Justin is.

Annoyance when Max pulled Justin away from you.

Something that felt horribly like lust and something else that felt terribly like more-than-familial love whenever you saw Justin.

And normally, whenever something confused you or aggravated you, you would go talk to Justin. He would help and make it so everything made sense again and it would all be fine.

But this was _about_ Justin.

So could you really talk _to_ Justin about it?

All of a sudden the door opens and an arm reaches out, yanking you inside.

You stumble, trying not to flush when Justin steadies you with one hand on your waist and the other hand on your hip.

"You alright?" His voice was warm and husky with sleep and you pulled away from him quickly, trying to hide the shiver that racked your body.

"Yeah, a little warning would have been nice though." You say quickly, grateful when your voice comes out steady and normal.

"Well, you not waking me up at three-thirty in the morning would have been nice too." He retorts, and you almost grin at the familiarity.

"Well how was I supposed to know that you had stolen your girlfriend's supersonic hearing?" You drawl, refusing to smile but knowing that your eyes were sparkling.

"I haven't stolen her hearing. I didn't even hear you. I just…" He trails off, as if he realized that what he was about to say wasn't really necessary.

"Just…?" You ask, as he knew you were going to, because of course you wanted to know what he didn't want to say.

"It's just that I always know where you are." He whispers, looking at the ground. You freeze, making some noncommittal noise as he starts talking again. "It's helpful when I need to find you to get you out of trouble." And the joke is just a weak attempt at getting back to normal, to familiar, to what is safe and known.

"It's alright. I get it." You say, the words slipping from your lips without your permission.

"You do?" He questions and this is all so backwards. He's supposed to have the answers and your supposed to ask the questions.

Then again, the realization that you're in love with your brother is currently taking over your mind, so maybe Justin being confused is really the less bizarre thing in this situation.

"Yeah. I get it. I always know where you are too." You mumble as he finally looks up from the apparently fascinating ground, his gray green eyes locking with yours.

"Why…" he stops, clearing his throat as he steps closer towards you, "and why do you think that is?"

He's too close to you now, less than a centimeter of space in between your bodies. You can feel the heat of his skin, almost pressed against yours, every part of your body lining up with his.

"I don't know." You breathe, not daring to speak louder.

Each of you are standing there, hands facing each other and lips so close that when you breathe out, his breath intermingles with yours.

You feel like you're standing on the edge of a very tall bridge on a very windy day and you're about to fall down, down, down, no parachute or magic to save you.

The two of you stand there, staring at each other for endless moments, conversation forgotten and both of you wanting to move but too afraid to.

One moment, and everything would change.

One moment, and everything could be amazing.

One moment, and everything could be ruined.

You move forward, of course you do, because when the fuck have you ever not done what you wanted to?

As soon as your lips brush his, everything is a blur of motion.

All of a sudden his arms are around your waist and his lips are trailing down your neck as you gasp for air and finger the drawstring of his pajama pants. Before you know it you're pressed flat against the bed, his body pushed tightly up against yours. His lips burn a path down your body and you rip the shirt he's wearing and you _can't breathe_ but you don't really want to, not if it means Justin has to take his lips off of yours.

Seconds, minutes, hours, a whole eternity later and he's pulling away, panic clearing the lust from his eyes and sharp regret twisting his swollen lips.

You swallow back tears and pretend that being _so_ close to what you wanted and then watching it slip from your grasp isn't killing you.

You slide off his bed, ignoring the twisting in your stomach and the constricting of your heart as you head for the door.

You walk out of the room, leaving him behind with his **we-shouldn't-have**s and **we-can't-tell-anyone**s.

* * *

A month after, and you've discovered something.

You and Justin are much better actors than people give you credit for.

_No one_ knows. Or suspects. Hell, at times you think that Justin doesn't remember it or decided it was a dream or something.

Because _nothing has changed._

Everything is exactly the same as it was.

You made out with Justin, the love of your life, the guy of your dreams, your brother, your best friend, your protector, your _everything_.

And yet nothing was different.

Max was still kind of an airhead, Dad was still running the substation, Mom was still trying to keep a good hold on the magic thing, Harper was still putting food on her clothing and Justin was still acting like a dork that disapproved of you.

Everything and everyone were still horrifyingly _the same_.

You would think that you were insane and had imagined the whole night if it wasn't for those moments, those brief seconds of time when Justin stares at you like he stared at Juliet. When his eyes darken and his hands clench and he looks at you, his entire demeanor screaming **I-want-to-slam-you-against-the-nearest-flat-surface**. And even better are the times when his eyes soften, turning more green than gray, and his lips curve into a warm smile and everything about him murmurs **I-love-you**.

You _live_ for those moments.

* * *

It's almost the end of your junior year and Justin's senior year, Juliet has moved away and Justin is single, and a boy asks you out.

He's new to school and really cute and kind of a badass and just your type.

And none of these things make you want to date him. The _only_ reason that you want to date him is because he makes Justin glare.

He makes Justin absolutely _furious_.

So he asks you out and you say yes and now you're getting ready for the date.

You've got on a short jean skirt that you knew Justin found sexy and a blue v-neck that Justin accidentally bought a size too small and gave to you. You look cute in that flirty way, which is perfect because according to Harper he's taking you to Coney Island. You leave your hair curly and add a bunch of silver rings on your fingers and loop one long silver necklace around your neck before opening your door, running into a body that was just outside your room.

Justin.

Of course.

He pushes you back into the room, his foot closing slamming the door and his lips pressing lightly against your collarbone.

"You're not going out with some idiot _boy_ wearing _my shirt_." He growls, sliding his lips from one side of your neck to the other, pressing kisses everywhere.

"You're not _finally_ pulling your head out of your ass just because you're jealous." You hiss back, a hand weaving into his hair and yanking him away from you.

His eyes are dark as he slams you up against the wall, biting your neck and slipping his hands up your shirt, fingertips pressing into your waist as a moan slips unwillingly from your throat.

"Justin," you gasp, "_let go_ of me."

"I don't _want to_." He snarls, biting more harshly into your neck and sliding his left hand up to the base of your bra.

And you want this.

_God_ do you want this.

But you don't want it like this.

So you shove him away again and he backs up reluctantly, his eyes begging you to not go, to stay with him. But he has the ability to _break _you and that terrifies you more than you will ever admit, so you stride from the room whispering an easy spell that hides the marks on your neck and smoothing down your clothes.

You get downstairs and see your date, Aaron, and smile at him, sliding your arm through his.

The two of you walk out the door, nodding to your mother's calls of curfew at midnight.

And you determinedly ignore the feeling of Justin's glare on your back.

* * *

Aaron didn't last long, only managing to hold on to you until Justin's graduation.

However, everything with Justin was… awkward.

He took your refusal of him as a complete rejection, which you didn't mean it as, but you didn't want to _finally _start a relationship with him just because he was jealous of some guy that didn't mean anything.

So the two of you didn't really talk anymore.

Max was the only one who noticed that things between the two of you were off, but he didn't say anything. He just smiled at you sadly and pulled you into a surprisingly comforting hug one day, then he moved on and acted as if nothing had ever happened.

So Justin goes off to college without a goodbye.

And you hide your depression underneath new clothes and better grades.

* * *

Everything is just _off _without him.

It's not as fun to tease Max and there's nobody to defend you when your parents start to yell and Harper has been wearing black clothes for the entire two months he's been gone.

You miss having someone to make fun of and someone to confide in and someone to study with on rare occasions.

You miss _him_.

So you start calling his wand at night, right before you go to bed. Sometimes you call at ten at night, sometimes you call at three in the morning, it doesn't really matter, you just always call.

He always picks up, murmuring **Alex** once, almost like a prayer, before staying silent. He stays connected until you fall asleep and you wake up in the mornings with a wand imprint on your cheek and barely heard whisperings of **I-love-you**s and **I-miss-you**s dancing in your ears.

Weeks pass this way.

Then, one day, you and Max are playing videogames with magic and destroying the living room and Justin walks in.

You don't know why it was so shocking, it was almost Christmas after all, but for some reason, you just didn't expect him to be there.

But he was.

And you didn't really know what to do about that.

So, you ran upstairs while Max was greeting Justin, locking your door and telling your parents that you weren't hungry when they told you to come down for dinner.

You weren't really thinking straight.

If you had been thinking straight, then you would have realized that all of this was pointless because Justin could just use his wand to get into your room.

But as you had already said, you weren't _really_ thinking straight.

You were throwing paint at a canvas when Justin appeared in your room in a swirl of lights, causing you to jump and yelp.

Earlier, you had ran away so quickly that you hadn't really absorbed the changes that he had gone through in the semester away from home. Now though, you noticed all the differences. His hair was longer, falling over his forehead and almost into his gray-green eyes. He was taller and his muscles more defined, wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants and no shirt.

You gulp.

"I'm _tired of this_." He whispers, taking two steps towards you for every one step you moved back.

"T-t-tired of what?" You stutter out, attempting to back up faster and grimacing when your back hit the wall.

"Of ignoring it." He had almost reached you now, the look in his eyes entirely too predatory and you take a moment to appreciate the irony of this moment. Justin being the strong one who was saying **fuck-all-the-rules** and going after what he wanted, and you being the one that was unsure and cautious.

"Ignoring what?" You sound better this time, more normal, but you know it's too late and you're just delaying the inevitable.

"_This_." And with that his lips are pressed against yours and his body is slamming you up against the wall.

You can feel every inch of his body against yours, the heat from his bare chest seeping through your thin tank top as you drag your hands down his back, leaving behind trails of blue and gray paint on his back. You feel him grin against your neck as you purr, his hands sliding your shorts off and his fingers gripping your hips tightly.

You're done trying to deny it.

There is just _no way_ you can deny _this_.

So you give in, the tension leaving your body in a rapid flood and resulting in you melting against him. He pulls back, smiling slightly at the dazed look in your eyes, and presses his lips against yours again.

The two of you stumble towards the bed, falling down on top of it half-clothed, covered in paint, and completely in love.

* * *

You wake up at noon the next day, the best you've slept in a while, arms sprawled over Justin's torso and legs tangled with his.

You look up at him, and he's already awake, grinning brightly at you as one of his thumbs rubs soothing circles over your hipbone.

"Hey," you whisper, your voice hoarse from sleep.

"Hey," he murmurs back, lacing his other hand through your hair and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "You alright?" he questions gently, affection and love clear in his tone.

"Perfect," you laugh, grinning at the fact that you've somehow managed to become such a sap.

"Good," he states before flipping you over and leaving smoldering kisses all the way from your collarbone to your navel, grinning up at you with a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Alex?" he mumbles, sliding a finger up your thigh.

"Yeah?" you barely manage to gasp out, your breath having been stolen away when he was kissing you.

"I love you." He says, his voice firm and clear as he stops his slow torture.

"I love you too." You say, smiling as he kisses your lips, feather light and surprisingly innocent.

This was _so_ worth the wait.


End file.
